


A Little bit of Warmth

by nofinerfellows



Category: The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows - Stiles/Drewe/Grahame, Wind in the Willows (2016 musical)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11987922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofinerfellows/pseuds/nofinerfellows
Summary: “A nice fire.” Ratty hummed to himself, and with the way the cold was flushing Mole’s cheeks, a little bit of warmth wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome.





	A Little bit of Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't ever written anything for a fandom before, but I loved these two too much to not write a little something for this musical.

With the winter months once again coming, the evenings were getting longer, and so the hours of daylight shorter. It was something Ratty had completely forgotten to keep in mind when Mole had convinced him merely with misty eyes and softly spoken words that he’d like to return to his little home in Mole End.

The snow that seemed to settle over the Riverbank every winter hadn’t yet started to fall, but the air was crisp, making Ratty grateful for his blue coat. On walks before he’d met Mole last spring, he would have wrapped his striped scarf around his neck, but at some point his dear friend had quite taken to it, and so was walking along behind him – holding onto the end of his tail as was usual for their walking together – with the big scarf wrapped around his neck and his nose buried into the thick material that still faintly smelled of Ratty.

By the way the sky was already darkening slowly, Ratty knew they’d be spending the night and not just dropping in,

"I hope we get there before dusk, Moley." He thought aloud, his breath clouding in front of him as he walked the by now familiar way, a warmth in his chest merely from the company he had with his friend. Ratty just wasn’t sure he knew how to put a name to the feeling, especially when they both seemed comfortable with one another without knowing exactly what they were,

"So do I," Mole’s words broke through his thoughts, "We can have a nice fire when we get there." Ratty nodded, glancing over his shoulder to check on him,

"A nice fire." Ratty hummed to himself, and with the way the cold was flushing Mole’s cheeks, a little bit of warmth wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome.

-

Mole had made no delay in getting the fire going when they arrived. A smile had constantly been pulling at his lips, for it was the first time he'd seen the little place in months. They'd both settled down for the evening once the flames were flickering away steadily in the fireplace, painting the whole room orange.

Ratty had known not to attempt to sit in the red armchair by the hearth. As comfortable as it looked, he had to sit elsewhere, because every time he’d tried to settle there, he'd realised that he was slightly too wide for it, and his legs were too long. Mole fitted in it comfortably (after all, it was his chair), and that’s where he was curled up, his eyelids flickering shut, and then opening again slowly. If it were any other animal in the woods, or any other on the Riverbank, he wouldn’t be quite so content to just watch, but he was happy to sit with the crackling of the fire while Mole tried to stop himself from dozing off,

"Moley." There was warmth in his voice as he practically chuckled the name minutes later. The answer he received was a deep sigh and a wrinkle of his friend’s nose, and he rolled his eyes.

So much for not dozing off.

Of course, Ratty did understand that it hadn’t been the shortest of walks from what he’d taken to calling their home, and he felt nothing but fond upon hearing the snuffling sounds now leaving Mole. Whatever his feelings were doing, they certainly made his chest ache with fondness at points like this,

"Mole." He spoke louder this time, and his friend lifted his head, squinting at him briefly before sitting up and wrinkling up his nose as he yawned,

"Was I asleep?" Mole asked genuinely, which earned an amused huff from Ratty,

"Oh, no, you were wide awake." His tone was full of dry sarcasm; he couldn’t leave it for long with the confused expression on Mole’s face – too sleepy for sarcasm, then, "You were asleep. I don’t blame you, but perhaps we should call it a night, hmm?"

With that, the other nodded, getting to his feet and looking briefly unsteady. The idea of taking Mole into his arms had never been so appealing, but he seemed to have steadied himself before Ratty could even get to his feet,

"I could always stay here," Mole’s words made Ratty frown, confused, and the shorter laughed softly, "My bed’s a bit smaller than yours, Ratty, and I don’t have a spare. I could easily sleep in my chair for the night, and-"

"Moley, I couldn’t possibly-"

“You’re sleeping in my bed.” That decided it, he supposed. He took off his hat, pushing a hand through his hair. Mole could be unexpectedly stubborn at times, and apparently now was no exception. With a sigh, Ratty met Mole’s brown gaze, looking up at him tiredly, but somehow those eyes were filled with affection, anyway. The feeling of warmth returned, and he offered his tired friend a smile, which was quite happily returned. Moments like this were the ones he treasured, and he’d treasure this one even more than some of the others, because his friend had decided to step forward, leaning into him and finding a gentle hold at the back of his waistcoat – Ratty hummed, his cheek settling against his head as he let his arms encircle him securely.

He wasn’t sure how long he held Mole for, but when he came back to reality from the quiet that had settled around them and in his head, a slightly bashful laugh rumbled in his chest,

“Hope you’ve not fallen asleep, there.” He moved his arms away, earning him an incoherent and maybe even whiny reply; Ratty couldn’t make out the words, and he chuckled, “Needy mole.”

At that, Mole leaned back and frowned up at him, although Ratty couldn’t begin to take the look seriously, because his cheeks were pink and his eyes were bleary behind his glasses. His lips parted briefly to reply, but Mole just huffed softly,

“I’ll see you in the morning.” So, that was that. Ratty nodded at his words, the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips as Mole stepped back, and then returned to his armchair with another big yawn for someone so small.

There was something strange about walking through to Mole’s room without him there. The shelves were lined with books: some with cracked spines, some seemingly untouched, along with small ornaments and things Ratty couldn’t begin to imagine the story behind. Most of all, the room was cosy. It allowed him to ignore that he’d needed to duck his head to get into the room itself, and as his friend had said, the bed was smaller than what he was used to. Understandably, the place was designed for those who were shorter. 

On the end of the bed was a soft, but also worn-looking blanket coloured a pale mix of grey and purple, and without telling himself to, he gathered it up in his arms. The fire had started to die down, and his breath briefly caught at the sight of his friend curled up completely in his chair - already snoring softly - some of his features dimly outlined by the remaining flames. Although he couldn’t be sure if he’d need it, Ratty unfolded the blanket, and arranged it gently around the smaller’s form.

He could sleep easier knowing that Mole wouldn't be cold, and with tiredness suddenly making itself known, he returned to Mole’s room and got ready for bed, eventually finding a comfortable position to curl up under the covers to drift off to sleep.

-

When Ratty started to wake up, he breathed in slowly, closing his eyes again as he curled closer around the warmth pressed to his front.

Warmth? Despite Ratty’s mind still being addled with sleep, it didn’t take him long to realise that there hadn’t been any source of warmth with him when he’d gone to bed. It was when he sniffed that he worked out what was going on. The scent of his friend filled his nostrils, and quite unexpectedly his stomach flipped when he properly opened his eyes and looked down.

Curled up closely against him was Mole, one of his hands curled tightly into the material of his striped shirt. Ratty couldn’t bring himself to wake him, and he moved one of his arms to hold him closer, shifting and pushing his nose into his friend’s hair.

Even at the slightest movement, he heard (and felt) Mole snuffle indignantly, his grip loosening on his shirt for the briefest of moments.

He hadn’t expected to realise that morning that the cause of the feeling that regularly warmed his chest was perhaps something more than just care for his dear companion. Not care, not affection, but love. It felt like he was going to burst, and he closed his eyes again, his heart rate picking up.

After an amount of time Ratty hadn’t cared to count, where one of his hands had moved to gently stroke through Mole’s soft hair, the smaller started to stir. A quiet sound left him, followed by some snuffling before he hoarsely whispered,

“Good morning, Ratty.” The three words were muffled by his shirt, and Ratty could see the absolute reluctance with which the other sat up, squinting at him. He’d taken off his glasses for the night, and on top of that, Mole had just woken up and had very poor eyesight; Ratty could tell that he couldn't see a thing.

His throat tightened when Mole turned away, sitting up himself and about to speak when he realised that his dear friend was only reaching for his glasses – pushing them up his nose after he’d rubbed his eyes.

In the mere passing of a heartbeat, Ratty realised when Mole’s eyes had adjusted. Far stronger than anything Ratty had felt before, fondness, adoration for the smaller filled him as a lopsided grin worked itself onto his features, because in the moments that Mole had looked at him, his expression – still softened by sleep – had lit up, a bright smile spreading across his cheeks and reaching his eyes,

"It really is a good morning, Moley." He chuckled, his tone betraying all of his fondness.

He didn’t take his eyes off of Mole as he shifted closer again, and if he minded the tender kiss Ratty pressed to his forehead, he certainly didn’t say anything about it.


End file.
